Sam's turn to protect
by Ms Trillbatin
Summary: Sam spends his childhood being protected by Dean, what happens when someone needs Sams help? Teen Winchester


Sam woke up early, it was the first day at his new school. He knew he'd only be there a week, just like at all the other schools, but just like at all the other schools, Sam was eager to learn and eager to make a good impression. Sam was only fourteen and he couldn't hunt all the time yet, unlike his nineteen year old brother Dean, so the only thing he had to shine with, was his education. He walked into the kitchen of the motel room they were staying in for the week, to find Dean had got breakfast ready. Obviously their Dad wasn't home from hunting yet. Sam didn't mind too much, Dean was there for him.

"Hurry up Sam, you gotta get the bus to school, it's miles away." Sam nodded and sat down to quickly eat his breakfast, "You got your clothes ready? Know what you're wearing?" Dean asked, as he finished putting some food in a brown paper bag; his packed lunch.

"Yeah, just jeans and a T-shirt." Dean nodded, and then handed him his lunch in a bag,

"Put this in your back-pack, ok? And take your penknife." Sam rolled his eyes,

"Dean, I'm going to _school_, what exactly do you think is going to happen?" Dean frowned,

"Evil things don't worry about your education, Smart ass, they'll strike anywhere, anytime, you know that! So take your penknife and do what you're told, okay?" Sam sighed,

"Whatever, man." Dean walked past and smacked him over the head. Sam swore at him and Dean grinned,

"I'm taking a shower before I go check out that chicks house for her poltergeist, gotta be nice for the ladies…" He strolled off to the motel bathroom, and Sam rolled his eyes, his brother only ever had three things on his mind; hunting, food and women.

The bus picked him up exactly on time, and Sam climbed on board, keeping his head down as the kids on the bus all stared at 'the new kid'. The youngest Winchester took a seat near the back and pulled a book from inside his bag, as the bus stopped at another house and a small boy with mousy coloured hair climbed on. Sam barely glanced up, but if he'd paid more attention he would have noticed that the boy seemed reluctant to sit in any other free seat, except the empty one next to Sam and everyone else was sniggering at the young boy. Sam was too involved in his book. It was one his Dad had given him: _Defensive theory_. It wasn't a supernatural type book, but it did explain certain fighting techniques that John Winchester was having trouble teaching him. Sam looked up suddenly as he sensed someone standing next to him in the bus isle. There was a small boy looking down at the empty seat. Sam moved his bag, and smiled at the boy, expecting him to smile back. When he didn't, Sam lowered the book,

"You can sit down if you want," offered the youngest Winchester. The boy slid into the seat silently as the bus lurched into action again, "I'm Sam," he said, the boy looked up at him sheepishly (Sam was already quite tall for his age),

"I'm Taylor." He offered eventually, "Are you new?" Sam nodded,

"Yeah me and my brother just moved here from Colorado…" he lied smoothly.

"How old is your brother?"

"Just turned nineteen." Sam supplied dully,

"How old are you?" Taylor asked,

"Fourteen…" Sam muttered,

"Same here…" Taylor smiled, "Sucks being so young, doesn't it?" Sam laughed,

"Never being able to eat what you want, go where you want, do what you want? Hell yeah, it sucks." The two boys chuckled quietly. Sam noticed though as they continued to chat on the way to school, that the other kids on the bus were watching them chat and were sniggering and passing comments to each other. He wondered, as he looked round the rest of the bus, why Taylor hadn't sat anywhere else, surely there must have been other people he could have sat with, why had he chosen to sit with the new kid? Sam shrugged off his queries, he had his suspicions but for now he was just glad he was making friends so easily, for once being a little like his big brother.

The bus pulled up outside the school and Sam realised that his stomach was fluttering from nerves. He jumped down the steps from the bus and paused,

"I'll take you to reception, if you want?" Taylor asked, and Sam nodded nervously. He hated the first day of school, and he'd had _so_ many. Sam sighed and followed Taylor in the same general direction.

"I expect you'll be in my class, with Mrs Aitkin, we had a girl leave a couple of months ago so we have a spot open." Sam smiled; at least that was one good thing. Taylor pushed open a door and walked into a large corridor, at the end he could just see the reception desk, with a daft looking old lady seated behind it. As they approached, the woman behind the desk, smiled,

"Taylor dear, can I help?"

"This is Sam…uuurm…" he glanced at Sam, who immediately rattled off the fake name his Dad had enrolled him under,

"Putney, Samuel Putney.

"Ah yes, your brother phoned this morning to let us know you'd be in, he's such a dear." Sam smiled; Dean could charm every woman, not just the hot ones his own age. "Well I'm glad to see you've become acquainted with Taylor, he'll be in your class, you're with Mrs Aitkin in room B37." She changed her attention to Taylor, "Are you alright now, that was a very unfortunate fall you took the other day?" Sam glanced at Taylor who looked back at him, his cheeks colouring,

"I, er, fell down the stairs," He supplied lamely, giving a fake chuckle that echoed unnaturally around the reception area. Sam knew immediately that he was lying. Something else had obviously happened, and it didn't take a genius to work out that Taylor wasn't exactly the most popular guy in school. Taylor turned back to the receptionist, "Yes, I'm fine thanks. I'll take Sam now, we don't want to be late." The old woman smiled pleasantly and waved them off.

"So…what really happened?" he asked Taylor once they were out of earshot,

"Nothing…like I said, I fell down the stairs in the math block." He rattled off, avoiding the youngest Winchester's gaze. Sam nodded, realising Taylor probably didn't want to talk about it.

An hour or so later, things had settled down and Sam was reading his defensive theory book in his math lesson. Luckily Sam had his book with him, because one of the rules was that they had to have a reading book picked out for when they completed a task and Sam had finished his math task within about five minutes of it being set. Taylor, who was sitting next to him had finished not long after Sam, he was reading a book that appeared to be about dragons and other mythical creatures. Sam wondered idly how many of the 'mythical' creatures he'd seen. He guessed at about half of them, and decided to ask Taylor at lunch if he could flick through and count up. He realised he was staring round the classroom and quickly looked back at his book. Then he looked back up again. Some guy was staring at him across the room…scratch that, _glaring_ was probably a more fitting description. He was a big beast of a guy, like two in one, and he had a scowl plastered across his face like a thunder cloud. Sam looked away quickly, no sense aggravating it. He decided to chance a look at him again…the damn kid was still staring! Sam was not a freak show, what was with him? The youngest Winchester, in contrast to the rest of his family, decided tact was a good option. He smiled at the boy, which turned to a full on grin. He stopped quickly when the guys' eyes narrowed. _Not a good idea… nope, definitely not_, thought Sam, as the guy pounded his fist into the palm of his hand, when the teacher's back was turned. Unfortunately she was looking directly at Sam,

"Mr Putney, I don't know how they do things in Colorado but here, we like to have our students follow instructions when they are given. For example when I say 'silent reading' I mean 'silent reading', I do not mean 'stare around the classroom daydreaming'" Sam gulped,

"Yes, ma'am." He muttered, going immediately back to his book. As soon as Mrs Aitkin's back was turned he glanced up at the thick set kid to see him guffawing into his hand. Much to Sam's glee Mrs Aitkin now had her attention on the other side of the classroom,

"Is there something amusing you'd like to share with the rest of the classroom, Malcolm?" She snapped. Immediately the bully stopped laughing, and Sam had to hide his own grin,

"No Ma'am." He grunted, flashing an evil look in Sam's direction for getting him in trouble. As the teacher proceeded to remind Malcolm that he needed to hurry up and complete his calculations, Taylor nudged Sam,

"You shouldn't do that." He muttered, looking at Sam with something close to apprehension. Sam frowned,

"Why not?" he whispered back,

"Because Malcolm…well he's kind of in charge round here." Sam snorted, though very quietly,

"What do you mean _in charge_, no one's _in charge_, this is school, the only person in charge is the teacher." Taylor shrugged, looking back down at his book,

"I'm just warning you, if you don't want to get beaten to a pulp…though it may just happen anyway," he muttered bitterly, Sam twigged suddenly,

"I knew something wasn't right!" He whispered, "You didn't _fall_ down the stairs! Malcolm pushed you!" Taylor glanced around urgently, luckily no one had heard them and Mrs Aitkin was crouched down, coaxing Malcolm into figuring out his algebraic equations. He had his tongue sticking out as he worked really hard at figuring out what 2 + 2 was.

"SSsssshhh!" He said urgently, "Just don't tell anyone!" Sam frowned,

"You really should just tell the teacher!" Sam urged, "I mean come on, I can't believe you actually just _let_ him _beat you up_!"

"_Will_ _you keep your voice down_?" Taylor hissed, "What am I supposed to do? If I tell someone, there won't be any proof! They'll just sit him down, say '_I hope you aren't bullying anyone, coz that would be really wrong, Malcolm_' in a patronizing voice, he'd put on an innocent face and say '_no ma'am, I'd never do that!_' and then that'll be the end! Until that is, he comes to kick my _ass_, for ratting him out!" Sam sighed, he knew it was true. He knew, and for someone only fourteen years old he had remarkable insight, that sometimes, the systems adults put in place just _did not work_.

"Ok, then what are we going to do about it?" Sam asked, his best Winchester voice coming into action. Taylor looked slightly taken aback,

"What do you mean 'do about it'?" he asked, frowning slightly, "Don't you understand that if you hang out with me, he'll beat you up too?" Sam snorted again, "He wouldn't be able to. You see this book?" He held up his defensive theory book, "This has taught me everything I need to know, and I'm tougher than I look. Besides," he grinned, "If I get beaten up, my brother will come knocking on Malcolm's door, and he'll get a taste of his own medicine!" Taylor, shook his head, we'll never be able to scare him enough to make him back off." Sam considered it,

"Ok. Then you learn the courage you need to force him to back off _every _time." It was Taylor's turn to snort derisively,

"You're joking right? I can barely mutter two words to the guy! Let alone get into a fight with him!" Sam knew he needed to help Taylor through this. There were times when Sam had had problems with bullies and Dean had offered to sort them out, but their father had forbidden it, he said that Sam needed to learn to take care of things himself, and Sam now realised that to be true. He couldn't fight Taylor's battle for him, because in a weeks time Taylor would be alone and back to square one…minus square one if you imagine how pissed off the bully would be after getting a fight back from Sam. So the youngest Winchester knew that this was his time to be the protector for once, but not in form, in spirit, he had to be there for Taylor and help him overcome his fear of fighting back. Sam looked Taylor in the eyes,

"That's all about to change." He said sternly.

Sam and Taylor sat out under a tree in the yard at lunch time, reading their books silently. Sam had flicked through Taylor's mythology book and counted that out of thirty-seven 'mythological' beasts, he had seen nineteen, something he was oddly proud off, considering his aversion to a life of hunting. Sam glanced at Taylor. His friend- Sam paused as he realised that, his first friend in years, probably- was pretending to read, but his eyes were not moving. He was tense and still, and Sam knew he was waiting for someone (namely Malcolm) to approach. He didn't have to wait long. A shadow fell over the two boys and Sam looked up, as did Taylor. Malcolm, with a couple of other boys who Sam vaguely recognised as having been sitting near Malcolm in the classroom, were all standing staring down at the two of them.

"New guy, stand up." Malcolm spat. Sam rolled his eyes,

"Now, why would I do that?" Sam glanced behind Malcolm, it was a big playing field and there were no teachers in sight. Looked like they'd have to do this the hard way.

"Because I told you to!" Malcolm ordered. Sam sighed exasperatedly, then shut his book very slowly, making sure he marked his page. Then he stood up, face to face with Malcolm. He was pleased to see that he was at least as tall as Malcolm, probably taller.

"You know who this is?" He asked, nodding down at Taylor, who was watching apprehensively. Sam frowned, feigning confusion, then looked down at Taylor, still looking like he'd been hit for six,

"Isn't…isn't…yeah!" He cried, the light dawning, "It's _TAY-LOR_" He said slowly, adopting a loud and clear voice as though he was speaking to a toddler. Malcolm's face reddened and his expression became extremely angered. Well if Sam wasn't in for a beating before, he'd secured it now. Malcolm slammed his fist into his palm,

"You think you're such a smart ass, don't you?" He growled, advancing on Sam, who stood his ground with a completely calm expression.

"Compared to you…yeah," he shrugged. Something in Malcolm snapped and he lunged at Sam, slamming him into the tree. Sam may have been as tall as Malcolm, but he had a definite disadvantage when it came to weight. The force Malcolm managed to exert against him, knocked the wind completely out of him, crushing his lungs momentarily.

"You guys get the other one," Malcolm ground out as he held Sam against the tree. As the youngest Winchester tried to gather his wits, he heard Taylor squeal. He just prayed his friend had managed to remember everything Sam had taught him. If he was praying for stuff, he kind of hoped he had remembered everything his Dad and Dean had ever taught _him_. Malcolm, as the leader, threw the first punch. As soon as the fight started, Sam knew that really Malcolm was no match for him, he hadn't even bothered to restrain Sam's hands. So the youngest Winchester watched, as if in slow motion, the fist came flying at him and he calmly moved his head slightly and then brought his own palm up to meet the attack. Gripping his opponent's wrist, Sam twisted quickly and Malcolm let out a gasp of pain as his wrist cracked. Sam knew he hadn't broken it, though. He didn't want to leave any evidence of this little _event_. He glanced over at Taylor, and for the moment all three guys- Taylor and Malcolm's two friends- were just watching in astonishment, as Sam dodged all of Malcolm's attacks and twisted them round on him. Malcolm lunged at Sam again and they grappled for a moment, before Malcolm ended up on the floor, gasping,

"Get him, you idiots!" he snapped from the floor. Sam backed up as the other two approached. One he could handle, two…it would be tough, but he could probably do it, but if Malcolm joined in again, that would be three. Could he handle that? No way…His back hit the tree as they closed in. Suddenly they darted forewords and grabbed an arm each, pinning Sam back. Then they stood on a foot each. He could not move. For the first time he felt the flutterings of fear. He was totally incapacitated and he had no chance of fighting back. He glanced over their shoulders, still no teachers in sight. _Damn_ he cursed mentally. Malcolm stood up, glaring at Taylor, who was watching with a look of panic on his face, eyes wide, mouth open. He approached Sam who was struggling uselessly against the other boys, he knew what was coming, and he didn't exactly relish the thought. Strangely he found he was more worried about what would happen when his dad and Dean found out. The first punch came quite quickly and Sam, had he not been on the receiving end, would have quite admired it. For someone not in the business for it, Malcolm could throw a decent punch. As it was, Sam _was _on the receiving end of it, and it was _not _pleasant. He felt the fist connect with the side of his face and his head was slammed back on the tree with such force his head whirled and his vision blacked out for a second. He could feel his face throbbing as his skin split open and swelled from the impact with Malcolm's fist. He even thought he could feel something dribbling from his cheek…_blood_. He knew he couldn't take too many of these punches, but what choice did he have? He struggled again but the other two boys just guffawed stupidly as they refused to give. Sam suddenly wished Dean was here, this kind of thing was his territory, he had no experience with this! Malcolm drew back his fist again and Sam was just deciding he should use his head…literally, as much as he hated to head butt someone, but then Taylor snuck up behind Malcolm and smacked him hard over the head with the two books he had been holding. As Malcolm cried out in pain, the two oafs that had been restraining Sam let go in surprise to look down at their group leader.

"RUN!" Sam shouted. He wasn't stupid, he knew which fights he could win and lose, and this was not one he should contemplate continuing. Taylor and Sam immediately went pelting across the field and rounded the corner till they came in sight of a few of the teachers on duty. Sam spun round to see Malcolm and his cronies hurtle round the corner after them. Suddenly Malcolm held out an arm and they all halted as they spied the teachers. Malcolm glared at his prey and then skulked away. Sam knew that this was not over, but for now, they were safe.

"Mr Putney? Sam! What happened?" Sam and Taylor glanced left to see Mrs Aitkin approaching, concern scrawled across her features, Sam attempted a little chuckle and used his perfectly honed acting and conning skills,

"Oh god, I wish you didn't have to see this ma'am! I urm, well I kind of ran into the tree! I know, I know it's stupid," he groaned, perfectly imitating utter embarrassment, "but I wasn't watching where I was going, and I tried to catch the ball and was running sideways and hit a low hanging branch." He explained, purposefully not elaborating fully on the 'game' they had been playing. Taylor nodded next to him. Mrs Aitkin eyed him closely, inspecting both of them for any sign of a lie. Sam knew his injury was not consistent with a bang on a tree, but what else was he supposed to say? Dean was the conman, not him! She sighed, and Sam realised she was probably fully aware of Malcolm and his cronies, but she had no proof,

"Taylor, you had better get him to the nurse's office, and make sure they phone his parents, he has had a head injury after all." Sam suppressed a groan, he'd be lucky if Dean didn't come flying down to the school straight away. Taylor steered him into the school and down through the corridors to the nurses office,

"Thanks, Taylor," Sam muttered, he could feel a headache coming on, but it would have been a lot worse if his friend hadn't stepped up. The young man shrugged,

"I had to do something, I'm just sorry I didn't step in sooner." Sam shook his head, though stopped quickly as it caused a flash of pain,

"Don't be, you finally stood up to them, it'll get easier from now on." Taylor nodded, as they knocked on the nurse's office door. Sam rattled off the same story as he had given Mrs Aitkin, the strict school nurse nodded, her eyes showed she also didn't quite believe the story. Her eyes fell on Taylor, who was hovering in the doorway behind Sam,

"Taylor? You aren't hurt again are you?" He shook his head, blushing slightly,

"No, Sam's my friend I just wanted to make sure he was ok." Sam felt an odd feeling of pride as Taylor said that. They were friends, and that was worth all this hassle.

"Well, ok sweetie, but you gotta go now. In fact," she paused and looked at her watch, "You may as well go wait in reception, your mom will be here soon, remember?" Sam could tell by the look on Taylor's face that he hadn't remembered, then realisation struck and he groaned,

"Dentist," he supplied dully to Sam who nodded and smiled. One good thing about permanently being on the run was that they had had about half a dozen dentist appointments between the three of them for as long as Sam could remember.

"Ok, I'll see you tomorrow?" The youngest Winchester asked,

"Yeah, I'll catch you on the bus." Taylor grinned and Sam returned it, as the young man spun on his heels and left.

About five minutes later the nurse reappeared, holding a first aid kit. She crouched down in front of Sam, and without any preamble, grabbed his chin and angled his face so she could clean up his wound,

"Not much tree bark in there…or dirt," she observed dryly. If she thought she could get him to explain how this really happened she had another thing coming. A Winchester was a hard nut to crack. She sighed and then left the room, returning quickly with a pad and pen,

"Write down the number of your parent or guardian for me please, young man," she ordered in a bored voice. Sam paused then took the paper and pen. He sure as hell didn't want the school phoning his dad,

"My dad will be at work, you can't contact him, he'll be in meetings all day. I can give you my older brother's mobile number though?" he asked,

"What about your mom?" the woman asked. Sam flinched inwardly, he hated this bit,

"She's…er… she died when I was a baby." Sam answered looking away. When he glanced at the nurse her face had softened,

"Sorry sweetie. Okay, I'll call your brother. Wait here." She left the small exam room and went into her office. Sam slipped off the chair and opened the door. She could hear murmured voices as the woman spoke to Dean. Sam shut his eyes, trying to block out his steadily building headache as he listened to the woman's side of the conversation. Suddenly her voice grew louder. She must be coming in. Sam hurriedly returned to the chair, and arranged his face into innocence. The nurse pushed open the door, her phone glued to the ear. A small frown on her face,

"I can assure you Mr Putney, Sam really is fine, apart from a mild headache, I suspect." _Mild, my ass_ Sam thought, rolling his eyes. She waited as Dean obviously asked a few more questions,

"No…not at all. I'll do- Yes…he's right here…" She handed the phone to Sam, "Your brother wishes to speak to you," Sam sighed, and braced himself. He slowly put the phone to his ear,

"Dean, it's me." He said,

"_Sam? What the hell happened? That woman said you walked into a tree!_" There was a hint of mocking in his voice, along with a whole lot of incredulity. Sam cringed at that. He glanced up, the nurse was standing watching him, and she didn't look about to leave,

"Eeeer…" Sam paused, "No." he stated, Dean grunted,

"_I didn't think so. What gives? Something supernatural? By the way, this poltergeist thing? Such a bust! The woman, who IS real hot by the way, though kinda old, just has rats and a HELL of a stroppy teenage girl…you'd like her._"

"Shut up." Sam responded automatically,

"_So, what was it? Embia? Skin Dog? Spirit?_"

"_No!_" Sam hoped he put enough incredulity in his voice that Dean got the message. There was a pause,

"_Nothing like that huh?_" Dean asked, and Sam could tell he was frowning in confusion,

"No."

"_I take it Nursey is still listening so you can't talk?_"

"Exactly."

"_Ok, don't sweat it, I'll pick you up from school, in the student parking lot at the end of the day, ok?_"

"Thanks, Dean."

"_You okay though?_"

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry. Don't tell Dad either."

"_He'll find out._"

"Yeah well the longer I can put _that_ off, the better." Dean sighed,

"_Ok, look after yourself, see you later._"

"Bye, Dean." Then the line went dead. Sam handed the phone back to the nurse and sighing, slumped back in the chair.

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asked, tilting her head to one side. Sam didn't really feel like going back to class, so he decided to milk it a bit,

"I have a _really_ bad headache," he grimaced, putting on his trademark 'puppy dog' eyes.

"I think you should stay here till the end of the day, I take it your brother or your dad aren't free to come get you?" Sam shook his head then grimaced,

"Okay, sweetie, I'll get you an ice pack and you can just sit here quietly for the rest of the afternoon." He nodded, and then smiled to himself as she left.

When the bell went for the end of the day, Sam stood up quickly, but the nurse refused to allow him a speedy exit. She grabbed his chin again and examined his face once more,

"We can't have your brother thinking we don't take care of you," She murmured as she looked closely at his cut and bruised face, "He seemed very concerned about you,"

"Yeah, well that's just Dean, he's a big softy really." Sam lied. True, when it came to his little brother Sam knew Dean could fly off the wall at the slightest thing, but for anyone else Dean was not someone to be crossed.

"Well there's not much more I can do, really, just let it heal on its own, and maybe you should get that headache checked out, you could have concussion." Sam thought she was over-reacting a bit, but nodded all the same.

He made his way through the now empty school and then outside into the bright sunlight. Luckily he remembered where the student car park was, and cut across the edge of the field to reach the car lot. He knew as he glanced at the practically empty concrete area that there was no Impala and no Dean. He turned to find somewhere to sit, and wished he hadn't. Ignorance being bliss and all that. Coming round the corner from the back exit of the school came a crowd of about ten guys, all looked to be Sam's age. In the front strolled Malcolm, followed closely by his two thugs. They were coming right for him. Sam took a step or two backwards, but he had nowhere to go, there wasn't anywhere he could hide, and he knew he wouldn't be able to outrun them all. The gang picked up it's pace and Sam knew he had little time. He turned round to run, hoping to simply stall till Dean arrived, but he turned round and bumped into a group of about five guys. All of them grinned at him maliciously. _Shit!_ Was all Sam's brain supplied. He was trapped and outnumbered twenty to one. Well if this was how it was going to be he'd be dammed if he wasn't going to give a decent fight. He let his ruck sack slip from his back, and dodged as the leader of the smaller pack took a swipe at him, but there were just too many of them, and one managed to land a decent punch to his stomach that caused him to double over in winded agony, just as Malcolm and the main group arrived,

"Good work guys!" Malcolm crowed to the smaller group. If Sam hadn't been staring at the ground trying to catch his breath he would have seen them all grinning stupidly. "Pin him down." Malcolm ordered coldly. Sam suddenly found himself shoved backwards, someone's foot sticking out behind his heel, causing him to crash to the floor heavily. They were all on him suddenly, two people pinning down each limb, while the remainder of the group kicked and punched the living daylights out of him. The pain continued to jar through him, each punch or kick, sending a frisson of agony radiating from point of origin up and down his spine. He tried to suppress a groan but he couldn't help it, he moaned but was quickly silenced as Malcolm kicked him viciously in the jaw. Sam felt his face explode in pain and tears sprung to his eyes. He refused to cry, he would not show weakness but the tears didn't seem to want to go. He shut his eyes, grunting at each attack. There were so many of them, all crowded round, trying to get a go at the new punch bag. He tried to move, but even if he wasn't in so much pain he had no chance of getting away from the eight boys who had him pinned down.

"Wait." Malcolm called, making all the boys stop their assault immediately. He smiled down at Sam, who was bloodied and bruised and gasping heavily for breath.

"This is for showing me up in front of everyone, for getting me in trouble with that bitch of a teacher, for hanging around with that loser and not doing what I tell you!" He spat full in Sam's face, and the youngest Winchester screwed up his face in disgust as he felt the saliva dribble down his face, unable to wipe it away.

"He's…not a loser!" Sam ground out, his anger outweighing his pain. For answer Malcolm punched him heavily in the face, and Sam couldn't help it, he cried out in pain,

"Carry on, guys," Malcolm ordered, and then it started again, the pain of people going to work on his body, with such vehemence and brutality that Sam would have preferred to take on a spirit or demon any day. Just as Sam's remaining strength, the strength that was keeping him conscious- began to dwindle, he heard a car's engine, and engine he'd recognise anywhere…Dean's Impala. He heard the car screech to a halt, and then a yell, Dean's voice. Sam took a few more punches to his ribs, and he groaned. Suddenly the punches stopped, but Sam didn't open his eyes,

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!" Dean hollered. Sam finally opened his eyes. From his view on the ground, he could see all heads turned in the direction of Dean's voice, and they didn't look so cocky now. Sam would have smiled, if the blood caked across his split lip hadn't prevented it. He couldn't afford to get confident now though, Dean may have been able to stop them for a while, but Sam couldn't see why they didn't just get Dean too, he was a great fighter, but even he couldn't take on twenty kids and win, and Sam was in no state to offer support. He was just waiting for them to snap out of it and go after him too. Just waiting…why weren't they doing anything?

"Back off now, or else…" he threatened, no one did anything but Sam could see the guys holding him down looking at each other nervously,

"You won't do anything, you wouldn't dare," spat Malcolm. Then came a sound that made Sam sigh with relief, Dean loaded a shotgun,

"You wanna risk that, smart ass?" He growled. Slowly the guys pinning him down stood up, leaving Sam on the ground. "You come near Sam again, and I swear you won't be in a fit state to run away! I'll put a bullet in your legs, your arm, your stomach and then your heart, then to top it off…BANG! One straight through your skull. Don't you EVER come near my brother again-"

"Or Taylor…" Sam whispered from the ground, luckily Dean heard him,

"You come near my brother, OR Taylor again? I'll kill you all." He said deadly seriously. Then as quickly as they'd arrive the gang of youths split and swarmed out the front gate. As soon as Sam was sure they were gone, he pushed himself gingerly off the ground. Everything ached and he could barely stand. Dean jumped over,

"Jesus, Sammy!"

"It's Sam…" he muttered, then he swayed and barely registered Dean's hands grab him as darkness permeated his vision and he blacked out.

He felt the engine thrumming beneath his seat and realised he was in Dean's impala. He knew he hadn't been out long, five minutes at the most. The pain was aching all over, a dull continuous ache that made his headache even worse. He opened his eyes and pushed himself up in the seat. Dean glanced at him from behind the wheel,

"You ok?" he asked, his green eyes full of concern. Sam grunted,

"Peachy." Dean chuckled,

"What the hell is going on, Sam? Why were those guys all over you like that?"

"This guy at school-"

"Taylor?"

"Yeah. He was getting bullied. I wanted to help, but things kind of got out of hand."

"_Things kind of got out of hand_? Those guys could have killed you, Sammy!" Dean cried, "I can't believe a couple of high school guys go the drop on you like that!" Sam suddenly felt indignant,

"There were _twenty_ of them Dean! And _I_ didn't have a shotgun!" Dean smirked,

"And whose fault is that?" He answered. Sam rolled his eyes,

"You think I can take a shotgun to school? People get arrested for what you did tonight, Dean. Threatening adolescents with guns."

"People get arrested for gang assault too, Sammy." Dean said seriously and Sam had to agree with him. They were silent until Dean pulled into the road of the dingy motel they were staying in. Sam scanned the motel parking lot for his Dads truck but it wasn't there.

"Is dad still not home?" Sam asked, a trace of concern in his voice.

"He came back from last nights hunt. He was fine. All good, but he had to go out again. Didn't say what for." Sam sighed, that had been happening a lot lately. Sam didn't care too much. It pissed him off a bit, but Dean was always there.

"Ok." Sam acknowledged, "At least I won't have to explain all this too him yet," Sam said gesturing to his face. He grimaced though as he waved his arms round. It stretched his bruised ribs. He quickly schooled his features, but Dean had already seen.

"Man, you need to go to the hospital, what if they broke some ribs?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous. I've had broken ribs before. These are just bruised. Honestly!" He added as he saw Dean's calculating look.

"Fine, but you go straight to bed as soon as we get in. Then you sleep and you don't get out of bed till this time tomorrow, _at least_!" Sam sighed,

"Whatever."

"Don't 'whatever' _me_, Dude! I can still kick your ass!"

"But you won't," Sam grinned as his brother fumed, he'd lost the argument there, and he knew it.

As much as Sam protested that he was not a weakling and he was absolutely fine he fell straight asleep as soon as his head hit the ever so slightly stale smelling motel room pillow. He slept soundly through the night though when he woke he was in almost agony.

"Dude, are you ok?" Dean asked from his bed next to Sam's as he woke up groaning. The youngest Winchester did not bother answering, instead he slowly got up off the bed, grimacing as little as possible and made his way towards the bathroom for a hot shower, hoping it would soothe his aching muscles and bones. When Sam emerged from the bathroom, feeling slightly better, Dean was watching a western on the dodgy black and white TV set.

"What time is it?" he asked his brother, his watch had been smashed in the fight yesterday,

"Twenty past eleven," Dean answered after glancing at his own watch.

"What?" Sam cried, grabbing his school bag, "Dean you gotta drive me to school, I'm so late!" Dean finally took his eyes off the gun-toting cowboys to turn and glare at his brother,

"No way are you going to school today, dude. You can barely get outta bed!" Sam rolled his eyes,

"Dean, come on man! I miss enough school with all the moving around, I can't afford to take another day off!"

"Forget it, geek boy. Get back into bed!" Sam knew he would never get Dean to change his mind, so instead he slammed his bag back down on the floor and threw himself onto his bed. After a few minutes of fuming, in which Dean pointedly ignored him, Sam got his cell phone from the bedside cabinet and realised he had a new text message. Opening it he saw it was from Taylor. Worry niggled at him, what had Malcolm and co. done to him while he was away? After reading the text though he got a pleasant surprise, the message read:

_Hey Sam, heard Malcolm beat you up? Are you ok? I'm really sorry, I hope you're not hurt too badly! Text back to let me know how you're doing. By the way, whatever you did to make them back off, it really worked! So thank you, man. See you at school. Taylor._

Sam chuckled and Dean looked over,

"You worked through all that teen angst now?" he smirked,

"Malcolm and his jocks backed off."

"I guess that means you owe some one your thanks?"

"Maybe." He smiled,

"Dude you should be kissing my ass."

"Thanks but no thanks."

A week after the Winchester's left town, Sam received an email from Taylor. It told him how Malcolm had been expelled for bullying some other kid and how no other school would accept him with that on his record so he was now mopping floors at the local mall. Something Dean found hilarious. Taylor however, had changed drastically from the weedy kid Sam had first met on the bus. He had been working out and had enrolled on a self defence course which he was apparently excelling at. Sam hadn't been back to the school. The same day that Dean made him stay home John Winchester arrived home. He refused to let Sam go back to the school and explained to his sons that they were skipping town the next day anyway. Something about following a trail that wasn't there any more. Neither Sam nor Dean had any idea what he was talking about, but neither questioned him. For now at least.


End file.
